


Beyond Reach

by nyteknight



Series: Dawnblade [6]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, World of Warcraft: Shadowlands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:13:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28987620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyteknight/pseuds/nyteknight
Summary: The veil between the words has been shattered. What fates lie ahead for the Dawnblades?
Series: Dawnblade [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099349
Kudos: 2





	1. Cause for Distraction

“We found him. We found the Blightcaller.”

  
Celine urged Lady to run faster. Word had reached her at her home in the Redridge Mountains. The messenger’s face had said it all. The young trainee still had a lot of learn about schooling his face. The expression was an open book for the terror he felt. With shaking hands, he handed a sealed letter to Celine, and another to Caeden. She had recognized Mathias’ writing on both at once. She was out the door and was on her horse before Caeden had even finished reading his letter. Celine rode at a reckless pace, forgoing the road for the more direct route through the trees. Caeden was a few yards behind her, having gone for his own horse the moment Celine bolted from the house. Normally the pair of Thalassian steeds drew a lot of interest in Elwynn Forest, as they were rarely seen in the Eastern Kingdoms. But today the pair were just blurs.

  
Celine rode fast on the bridge into Stormwind and only slowed once she entered the Trade District. Caeden caught up to her as she the Mage Quarter. “Mind telling me why we just flattened half of the city guards? Shaw said it was urgent, but I don’t think he meant riding over people to get here.”

  
Celine shot Caeden an icy, all business look. “Shaw is waiting for you.”

  
For you, she said, not for us. Caeden mused. He knew her letter was shorter and more to a point. Knowing he wouldn’t get any answers from his wife, he followed her to Lion’s Rest.

The Death Knight shifted in his heavy plate armor. He was uncomfortable being here. The city was already on edge from reports of the scourge to the disappearance of their King, and a fully armored Death Knight walking through the city wouldn’t calm the citizens. Not that he wanted to walk through the city. He avoided the main Alliance cities and most of the larger settlement towns. Stormwind he avoided in particular. He had not been back here since he re-joined the Alliance at the request of Highlord Darion Mograine. The city reminded him of what had and lost. He had a family once. A father, a sister, a lover. All were gone now. All fallen in Lordaeron. Only he remained, this former shell of the proud Lordaeron warrior. And now he was standing here, in a city that had been strongly allied to his, at a memorial for a fallen king. A king whose body lay not too far from another fallen royal soul. A soul he would visit at another time.

  
The sound of fast hoof beats drew him back into the present. The final member the assembled group was waiting for, had finally arrived. At the top of the stairs, leading to the Mage Quarter, were a pair of horsemen. Shadowstalker’s gaze was riveted on the woman on the gray horse beside the tall Quel’dorei Paladin. Slight of build, with copper red hair. Without seeing her face clearly, Shadowstalker knew she had a smattering of freckles across her upturned nose.

Celine stopped near the top of Lion’s rest, her eyes looking down at the group assembled below. She could identify Greymane and Shaw immediately.

  
“You have different orders,” Caeden said with a deep sigh as he reined in his horse next to her. He did not look down at those waiting, but at his wife. Her eyes looked distant for a moment before turning to look at him.

  
“It’ll always be this way. This is what it is. You knew what I am, back in Silvermoon.

  
“I did and I accepted it. You were on a clandestine assignment when we met. But it doesn’t mean I like knowing you’re going off in danger without me beside you.”

  
Celine laughed softly, “I’m never without you, love. But this is one thing I need to do without you.”

  
“Al diel shala, beloved” Caeden said softly, pulling her into a parting kiss.

  
Caeden watched her leave, heading back toward the Mage Quarter. With a heavy heart, he turned and headed to where he was needed.

* * *

Caeden could feel the tension between him and the Death Knight on the gryphon next to him. At first, he thought it was because of his changing alliance, then as they rode through the Eastern Kingdoms, he realized it was something more personal. The Death Knight, Shadowstalker, his name was, had made it very clear in his body language, that he did not want to be there. In Elwynn and Stormwind. Caeden knew common well and had even started to distinguish between subtle differences in accents. Those humans from Kul Tiras were easy to identify, as were those from Gilneas. But hearing his wife speak, especially when she was away from Stormwind, he had started to notice subtle differences, especially with Lordareon accents. If he listened hard enough, he could hear similarities between how Celine, Turalyon, or even Tirion Fordring spoke and the differences between them and Mathias Shaw or Paladin Shadowbreaker. He knew Shadowstalker was from Lordaeron. But something was very familiar about his speech. Something about the cadence of how he spoke.

They had been sent on an errand mission. Check in and bring back intelligence reports. Anyone is training could do that, but instead they sent him and the Death Knight. The scourge was invading not only Elwynn, near the town of Goldshire, but also Redridge and Duskwood.

Shadowstalker swore under his breath as he cut down undead upon undead. “Not again” he snarled, as he took down an abomination in Darkshire.

  
“You’ve done this before,” Caeden prodded as he helped the Night Watch take down a particularly difficult gargoyle.

  
“Yes” was the clipped reply. Shadowstalker didn’t have anything against the nosy Paladin. But his questions seemed targeted. He said little and volunteered even less. And now the fates would have him, he was on a gryphon with the nosy Paladin. The flight master in Dalaran didn’t have enough, so they had to share. Caeden kept up his annoying questioning. Questioning about places he was stationed, things he had seen. The Death Knight didn’t crack. He glared quite a few times but didn’t crack. Once they entered Icecrown and crossed over the Ironwall Dam, all thoughts of what the Death Knight was concealing was quickly forgotten.  
Behind him, he heard the Death Knight swear an oath. Caeden was fixated on the sky. It was broken, no shattered. He could feel…. the beyond…. emanating from the shattering.

“By the Light, what has she done?” Caeden swore, his gaze riveted on the broken sky.

  
“The unthinkable. She has broken the power of the Lich King.” The pale former human looked even paler, scared, as he too looked up at the sky.

* * *

Celine urged the borrowed gryphon on faster towards the Thondroril River. She knew the location of the Marris Stead well. The Marris family, Nathanos and Stephon, were loyal Lordaeron subjects once. Nathanos also had the distinction of being the only Human Ranger Lord. He was arrogant, and according to Lor’themar, a bully and a braggart. He was also exceptionally deadly. He had personally killed 5 SI:7 agents, including a close friend of Celine’s. In the end, an Argent Crusade scout had found him. The scout had met Celine in Ironforge and was still shaking from his encounter, as he told her the story.

  
“I was on patrol like I'd done a hundred times before only there he was sitting on the front porch of that old house with those terrible dogs and I swear he smirked at me and stared with those fiery red eyes and-- He's at the Marris Stead. Our forces have him surrounded, but, uh... I don’t think he plans to surrender.”

  
Celine knew Nathanos had no plans to surrender. That was why she, and knowing Shaw, a few other high-level assassins were there. Nathanos had many crimes to answer for.

Nathanos did not look to surrender at all, Celine thought, stealthed on a hill, just yards from the legendary ranger. He just stood there, waiting with those damn Blight hounds of his. Waiting for the gathered there to make the first move. He had been expecting this. Celine looked around and noticed both Alliance and Horde were present. Rogues, assassins and quite a few adventurers looking for coin. Both factions wanted him and his Banshee boss dead.

  
“Well…well…well, if it isn’t Azeroth’s greatest champions. Congratulations, you managed to track me to the most unlikely of places….my very own home.” Nathanos taunted the crowd in his arrogant manner. He had drawn his bow but had not aimed it. Celine had seen the blight on those arrows and knew he would be exceptionally difficult to take down.

  
A voice spoke from near her right, “Fancy seeing you here. Shall we…” Celine smiled as she recognized the voice and relaxed just a bit. Tristan and her fought well together, strengthening each other’s weaknesses.

  
“Get on with this, shall we?” Nathanos spoke again, done taunting those assembled.

  
Celine smiled to the nearly invisible Tristan, “Well can’t argue with him, now can we?”

Nathanos was not giving up easy. He had prepared for this. Too prepared Celine thought. She had to dodge another rain of plague tipped arrows as she darted in to stab at her target, before retreating again. He was a master archer; she gave him credit for that. She could only get close for a few seconds before being driven away by those arrows. By her rough estimating, there were at least 50 people there, both Horde and Alliance, all trying to take him down.

Celine was careful. She had seen what those arrows could do. She had seen the plague first hand. Both the original incarnation, and now what Sylvannas had perfected. She could only do very little directly to the Blightcaller, but had taken out his hounds. Others were not so careful. Those around her fell to Nathanos’ deadly arrows and were resurrected by comrades. Tristan himself had fallen, a victim to one of Nathanos’ hounds. A nasty bite to his throat, before Celine could manage to kill the beast. A Lightforged Draenei priest had brought him back.

  
Blightcaller was weaking. His shots were becoming more erratic, and he stopped his gloating. Celine thought they had him. Then darkness fell across Celine. Shielding her eyes, she looked up to the eclipse. Mother Moon was darkening the sky, bringing with it a cold chill.

Celine heard an arrow then besides her, Tristan swore “Shit…” Celine turned back and saw that Nathanos had been thrown back, pinned to his own front door by an arrow. An arrow that gave off moonlight. Standing on the top of the hill stood Tyrande Whisperwind, once High Priestess of Elune, now Night Warrior. And she had a score to settle with Nathanos and Sylvannas. Celine stood in awe as Tyrande’s twin glaves tore into Nathanos’ defenses. She had him on his knees, a glave to his throat. “Where. Is. She.” Tyrande’s voice was cold and unforgiving.

  
Nathanos chuckled, a chilling sound. “Kill me. You’ll send me right to my lady. Beyond the veil she shattered.” Nathanos did not get to finish his taunt. One quick move and the champion of the Banshee Queen was a heap on the ground.

  
“For Teldrassil” Tyrande whispered as she strode off, leaving his body to rot.

  
“What did she mean, the veil she shattered” Tristan said, pulling Celine back down the hill toward the road. He wanted to be far from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Preview of Chapter Two
> 
> “Despair... so delicious...” Another familiar voice yelled from the distance. Caeden and Shadowstalker both froze.
> 
> Caeden took a deep breath, “Well where one is…the other would be too.”


	2. Death Rising

“Death is all that you will find here!” Marwyn yelled as these strange dark Valkyr returned him to life. Caeden and Shadowstalker had been dispatched, once again, to investigate reports of the long dead returning to life. Shadowstalker, in particular, took joyful glee in killing Noth and Patchwerk once again. They were links to his life under the Lich King’s control. But the…creature, for it was no longer a man, in front of him, was a link he wished never to see again.

  
“Here we go again, all bragging, no follow through,” Caeden said as the world around him exploded. A large group assembled from the Argent Crusade had gathered. The sheer number of spells and abilities going off around him blinded him for a moment. But he remained focused on Marwyn and knew his job well.

  
“Your flesh shall decay before your very eyes!” Marwyn was being pushed back hard.

  
“Too late,” a particularly rotten Forsaken hunter yelled, as he sent his pets in for the kill. “You know, once you're dead, nothin' smells bad anymore. Rotten eggs? No problem. Dead fish? Like a spring breeze, but you stink.” The hunter had an odd sense of humor as the group finished off Marwyn. His corpse fell to the ground in a boneless heap.

  
Caeden shook his head, as he rifled the body for…whatever. He wasn’t sure what the long dead would have on him. But the Argent Crusade was interested in those dark stones found on several of the corpses and were rewarding handsomely for them.

  
“Those voices haunting me” Shadowstalker muttered, as he cleaned his blade on the corpse of Marwyn. He had known him in life and undeath. He had called him brother once, twice. But now, he felt nothing for the corpse at his feet.

  
“Despair... so delicious...” Another familiar voice yelled from the distance. Caeden and Shadowstalker both froze.

  
Caeden took a deep breath, “Well where one is…the other would be too.”

* * *

Sylvannas had chosen him, a lowly priest, to accompany her. A rumor had reached her ears that Frostmourne, the cursed blade of the Lich King was unguarded. Caeden, with a small number of handpicked adventurers, entered the Halls of Reflection and made their way to the where the gnome had said Frostmourne would be.

  
“Standing this close to the blade that ended my life….” Caeden could hear the pain, the sorrow and the memories in Sylvannas’ voice. He was part of those last few defenders that tried to hold back the Scourge. He had heard of Sylvannas’ fall to Arthas, her death at his hands, from Liadrin. Lor’themar, then Halduron, had become the Ranger General upon her death.

  
In the end, they had all fallen prey to the Lich King’s trap. Sir Uther, trapped in the sword, had tried to warn them, tried to have them run. But Sylvannas had to try to kill Arthas. To claim her vengeance.. To take his life just like he had taken hers. She had ran, following him deeper into the halls, vowing to have her revenge. Leaving them to face two of Arthas’s strongest followers.

  
“Men, women, and children…None were spared the master’s wrath. Your death will be no different.” Caeden had only heard what had happened in the throne room on that fateful day. The only witnesses were dead. Their corpses raised as undead scourge. But the reports were shocking. Men, women, and children killed in the streets. All had arrived to welcome the Prince home. All slain. The royal household all slain.

* * *

“We had followed Lady Proudmore into those same halls. She…She had also seen Frostmourne. Had wanted to destroy it. To break it’s control over the Lich King.” Shadowstalker said. “We managed to escape barely from the dragon in the end.” He shook his head clearing the memories. “Let’s go. Justicar Trueheart is waiting for our report.” The Death knight growled, changing the subject. He had to lie. He couldn’t tell this High Elf the truth. He remembered Marwyn and Falric, but much differently.

  
Caeden looked over to him. That was the longest sentence he heard the Death Knight speak in the two weeks they had been working together. They had put aside their differences in those weeks but the Death Knight remained reserved, solitary. But had always been honest. Something about his version of this particular story seemed…off. But Shadowstalker was right, the Justicar was waiting for them.

* * *

The bells were ringing clear. When they had landed in the North, he could hear them over the glade. They were welcoming the Prince home. As Arthas and his trusted soldiers walked into the palace, his people, Arthas’ people, were throwing roses. So beloved was the Prince. Shadowstalker had caught one of the petals between his fingers, where it wilted and died, crumbling to dust in his hands.

  
“Ah my son, I knew you would be victorious,” King Terenas had said, welcoming them home with open arms. Arthas had rushed to him, pulling Frostmourne free. “What are you doing, my son?”

  
“Succeeding you, father” Frostmourne had hungered, but had hungered no more as he took the soul of the king, Arthas’ father. “This kingdom will fall and from it’s ashes, will come a new order. One that will shake the foundation of this world.”

  
Shadowstalker could remember the screams the most. His memories were still hazy of his time under the Lich King’s control but the screams were clear. He had heard Viviane name Arthas, then her scream as her son, Thassarian, had slain her. Shadowstalker had slain those he had called friends. The people of the castle that raised him after his mother and father died. The people that trained him to be a warrior. Behind him, he saw a woman run. She was young, barely into womanhood. He whirled and ended her life with a quick slice. She fell, her red hair mingling with the blood on the throne room floor. “Celine…” A voice from somewhere in his mind whispered, then was silenced. He felt the pull of the Lich King, felt the hatred, the fear of others. Felt the delight in killing them. That voice was forgotten and silenced forever.

* * *

“Brr.” Caeden pulled his cloak closer around his shoulders. The strange violent storms had started up again. He guided his Dragonhawk down toward the Argent Crusade Tournament grounds. Behind him, he could hear the eerie heavy flap of the Death Knight’s mount.

  
“The cold doesn’t bother me, but the bonfire is a welcome sight,” Shadowstalker said, as they reached the ground. The Death Knight had removed his helm and had shaken his long faded red hair free. Icecrown felt familiar to him, almost welcoming. The further away from Icecrown he got, the more distant those painful memories were.

  
“Well then…let’s head over…” Caeden said, slapping the other man on the shoulder. He caught sight of a slight figure in dark leather. She was standing near another rogue, laughing at something he said. Caeden’s eyes lit up when he saw her.

  
Shadowstalker froze, with a sharp intake of breath. That laugh. The memory of that laugh pierced through his haze.

  
Caeden looked over at the sudden stillness from his companion. The Death knight had gone bone white. He had fixated his icy glare on Celine, a whisper of a word on his lips “Cissy”

  
Celine had turned hearing her husband’s voice. Beside him was a Death Knight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I heard a rumor recently. That a certain undead former Farstrider is no more.”
> 
> Celine smiled at him, a dark look across her face as she took part of an arrow shaft from her coat pocket.
> 
> Caden took the fletching. It was done in the Farstrider style but black. He noted the look on his wife’s face and shivered. In that look, he was reminded that she was an assassin as well. A very damn good one at that. Occasionally he found it very hard to swallow. The look on her face, made this one of those times. With another shiver, he handed it back to her. “You know all we did was send him to her. If she’s” Celine made a motion to the broken sky above, “there.”
> 
> * * *


	3. Reunion

Celine froze. No one had used that nickname in ages. No one left alive even knew of it. Yet this Death Knight did. In life, his hair was a red blond, the match to Celine's. Now it had faded, almost to white, but still managed to retain some of the original red highlights. He still had the same upturned and crooked nose. Broken when they were children. "Benjamin" Celine whispered.

He moved closer to her, closing the distance. His movements were careful, measured as he took his gauntlets off. The flesh underneath was pale, yet far from the deathly color she had observed in other Death Knights in Icecrown. She noticed his hands were shaking as well as he started to reach for her, then pulled back. "You survived," she said softly, looking at the Death Knight. She took in his features. His light green eyes were now a cold glowing blue and heavily creased. His lips twitched then turned up into a slight smile before fading. It had been ages since she last saw her brother in Andorhal with Prince Arthas. But here he was in front of her.

He looked away at her words, "I'm not sure surviving is the word for this. I...I'm sorry for..."

Celine cut him off with a shriek of joy and flung her arms tightly around him, "Benjamin," she cried, tears in her eyes. Her the top of her head barely reached even his shoulders but she clung to him.

After a few stunned moments, Benjamin reached up and brought his hand down, caressing her hair. "Celine...I've missed you." he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

  
Caeden watched his wife and the death knight closely for a moment. He could see both of them struggling for the emotions. He pulled on Tristan’s arm, pulling him away from the bonfire for a moment.

“Give them space,” he whispered, as they joined others at a different bonfire.

  
  


Benjamin stopped and sighed, “After Icecrown. I didn’t want to remember at first. I thought….I thought….I didn’t want to remember, so I didn’t. Cissy please understand, I’m not…”

“Not the baby brother I held when he was born? Not the brother I held when our parents died? Not the brother I was proud of when he became a member of the Prince’s personal guard? I thought you had died. That the last of my family had died.”

“I’m not the same Cissy…” He started to protest but Celine placed her warm small hand on his cheek.

“Neither am I Benji. The war changed me. And not for the better in some ways. But today something I thought was lost has been returned to me. You may be battered and tarnished, but you’re still family. And I will go to the ends of this world and the next before I let you go again, little brother.”  
  
Benjamin sighed softly. “It is good to see you again. You look well.”

She gave him a sad smile, “I am now. For a while, I wasn’t.”

Benji looked to the other bonfire, where the Paladin and the other rogue stood. He was glad the winds masked his words. “He’s new.”

“He is…..Tae’thalon” She sighed, “threw in with Kael’thas. He tried to help his people after the king was killed but ended up tearing the Quel’dorei apart. He was killed several years ago.”

“What have you left out, Cissy?” Benji said, looking at his sister closely.

She sighed softly, looking away into the bonfire. He could see the pain on her face. “He killed several Alliance guards and left me to hang for it. I was no longer needed as his trophy.”

“And this one?

“You’ve been working with him. What do you think?”

“I think he talks too much. And hears and sees too much as well. I think that is your influence. He loves his wife and children. Talked about them a lot. He’s devoted to the Light. He talks Talassian in his sleep. If he makes my big sister happy, then I can accept that….What are my nephews’ names?” He looked down at Celine, taking note of the new creases around her eyes, the few visible scars.

“Sophie. And Talnir. The dog is Blackie and Caeden named the cat Kim’jael.”

The death knight laughed; it was a hollow rasping sound “Little rat. And two children. It sounds like you’re happy.”

“I am. Caeden is kind. Devout but not sanctimonious. He’s understanding and forgiving. He’s a wonderful husband and an even better father. I want to grow old with him. And I want my brother to be a part of our lives. Caeden lost nearly all of his family. Aunts, uncles, parents and his sister. We both want our children never to know what that was like.”

“I will try Cissy. I do not always...feel the same as I did…but I remember our family and the love. I will try to be a part of yours.”

* * *

  
  
“Why is it when you’re always troubled, I find you looking to the sea?” Caeden said, wrapping his wife in another blanket. The winds were still howling in Icecrown.

“I guess it’s my mothers Kul Tiran blood. When she was always troubled, she would ride to the harbor and just watch the ships. I was born in Lordaeron but my soul remembers the sea and how easy it is to forget your troubles when your on it.”

“Except you forget everything else except the bucket next to you.” Caeden retorted.

Celine smiled, “I would have made a lousy sailor.”

“I heard a rumor recently. That a certain undead former Farstrider is no more.”

Celine smiled at him, a dark look across her face as she took part of an arrow shaft from her coat pocket.

Caden took the fletching. It was done in the Farstrider style but black. He noted the look on his wife’s face and shivered. In that look, he was reminded that she was an assassin as well. A very damn good one at that. Occasionally he found it very hard to swallow. The look on her face, made this one of those times. With another shiver, he handed it back to her. “You know all we did was send him to her. If she’s” Celine made a motion to the broken sky above, “there.”

* * *

“Tell me something. When did you regain your memories of life? Or did you not ever forget them” Benajamin and Celine walked to the market in Lakeshire. The scourge had attacked the city while she was in Icecrown but was fought off by brave adventurers. Life was returning to normal, but she could see the weary eye cast to the Death Knight.

“I…I was one of the first. After Falric and Marwyn. Arthas..” He touched his chest, right below the collar bone, where a long black scar still resided. “The Lich King’s power was strong. My former life was just a nagging memory. In Capital City, on the day of his return, I thought I killed you. I saw….” Benjamin faltered. “I….I…can’t remember her name. She worked in the kitchen. Had hair like yours. She made that sweet bread you liked.”

“Samira”

“Samira. I killed her. I thought it was you. And. Then I stopped feeling, stopped remembering. All I knew was death and the emotion killing brought me. When Arthas was defeated, I started to remember some things. I had heard and seen what became of the city and Quel’thalas. I didn’t start to look because I thought everything was gone. I didn’t think you would have settled in Stormwind. Working with SI:7. Then I saw you in Orgimmar.”

_“You are an honorable Orc, Nazgrim. I regret what I must do,” another male voice said. Celine turned to see a Tauren face Nazgrim. The Tauren looked tired, haggard but determined. Something in her mind told her this was Gammon, but she wasn't sure what. Tristen tapped her shoulder, bringing her back to the present. Both rogues stealthed and worked in tandem to pick off the additional forces Nazgrim was calling in during his fight with the combined forces of the Horde and Alliance. Long ago, they had worked out a rotation. They would remove the healers first, followed by the damage dealers. Celine had just finished slitting the throat of an Arcweaver when she felt the pain. It was surreal. She saw blood staining the front of her armor, felt the blade in her back. Falling, she saw the Kor'kron assassin that took her life then it was black._

_The Death Knight in the heavy saronite armor yelled a war cry as he saw the slim Alliance rogue go down. She was too far out of his range of his death grip ability. With a strange feeling, he looked over to where she had fallen. A Horde Paladin was by her side healing her wounds._

“Caeden had brought me back. Healed me with the Light.” She said, bringing him back to reality.

“I saw. I was afraid Cissy. That if you saw what I have become you would reject me. I asked the Highlord not to reveal my name to you. I knew you were searching for me. But if you saw me and turned in disgust…I couldn’t….Death Knights…don’t feel the same. Happy emotions are dull, mild. Hate, anger, pain…we feel it much stronger. I couldn’t bear seeing you look at me with hate, with disgust.” He turned his attention back to the lake and the children playing there. He remembered his life, playing with his sister at Brightwater Lake.

“Have I?”

“No.” He drew Celine close to him, hugging her tightly, a long tear streaking his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the last pre-written chapter. It's the start of state testing time and I'm testing small groups of children with special needs so most of my day will be at a computer, with little mental bandwidth for writing. I have an idea of how I want this to go, just not sure of how aligned to lore it'll be. We shall see


	4. Broken Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well we are finally in the Shadowlands....not going to rehash every zone but there are three zones that will feature heavily in the story.

“Dawnblade, the veil between our world and the Shadowlands has been sundered.” Celine and Caeden stood together outside of Stormwind. Darion Morgraine had called the both of them personally. “Acherus, the stronghold of the Ebon Blade, has moved to Icecrown Citadel. My death gate will take us there. Highlord Bolvar Fordragon has recovered from his battle with Sylvanas Windrunner. He awaits us, along with our allies.”

* * *

Celine once again found herself on the top of Icecrown citadel. The last time she was here, Arthas had fallen and Bolvar became the next Lich King. The rogue that was her backup was missing. Tristen was not summoned, but she was. And Caeden was as well. Drawn to the sky once more, she glanced up to it and sighed deeply. More then the wind chilled her.

“You will see the results of her actions. I... have never beheld anything like this. But shattering the helm also freed Bolvar Fordragon from the burden of being the Lich King.” Lor’themar’s dulcet tones cut through the wind.

Tyrande’s voice drew her back to the present at the group assembled. Lor’themar and Calia on one side, Greymane and Tyrande for the other. “Coward! I would pay any price to see the Banshee impaled upon my glaive!” Tyrande snarled at Lor’themar.

“I too want Sylvannas to answer for her crimes. But Lor'themar is right. Anduin wouldn't want us to risk the well-being of the Alliance for his sake.” For once, Greymane was acting as the voice of reason. But Lor’themar was right, Auduin wanted this alliance, this cease fire to continue. And from what she knew and heard about Baine and Thrall, the feeling was mutual.

“Enough! The war is over. We can ill afford to start another. A far more pressing threat is at hand, and we must prepare to face it. Dawnblade, place the shards if you will.” Bolvar said. Caeden, chosen to enter this….maw, picked up the first piece.

Each piece placed hummed with power until he placed the fifth and final shard of the Helm of Domination. A portal emerged from the center and slowly increases in size, filling the entire rune circle. “The path opens!” Bolvar said, as Caeden stepped back to stand next to Celine.

Lor’themar bowed low to Caeden, “Your courage will be remembered, Dawnblade. Al diel shala.” Caeden returned the bow, then turned to his wife. Resting his forehead against hers, he spoke in low tones before kissing her. With a look back to her, he walked through the portal.

Celine stood there; her eyes closed as the time passed.

“Lady Dawnblade, please let me escort you back to Stormwind.” Greymane said, offering her his arm.

“One moment. Please.” Celine said softly, reaching into her pouch. Walking over to Lor’themar, she handed him the broken piece of the arrow. “Share with Halduron” she said in Thalassian with a small, sad smile.

Lor’themar placed a hand on her shoulder. “He will be safe and will return. Have faith Celine.” He stepped back, giving Greymane a nod.

Greymane stepped forward, offering her his arm once more. This time Celine took it.

* * *

  
The screams were deafening. Caeden stood in the river of Souls, having been thrown back by the Sea Hag Heyla. Disorientated, he covered his sensitive ears. All he could hear was the wails and howls of a thousand, millions of souls around him. He could hear thousands of languages, some a few he recognized. He saw Kaldorei souls wretched down the river, wailing in Darnassian over the loss of Teldrasil. He heard denizens of other world lamenting the destruction caused by the Burning Legion. Then he heard it “Shindu fallah na”

  
“No!” Caeden cried as those memories of Eversong came back to him. They are breaking through. The forces of the Lich King breaking through the last lines of defenses. All around him, Rangers fell. Magisters, Priests, all fallen to the power of the Lich. “Anar'alah. Shindu Sin'dorei. Shindu fallah na” He was in Eversong once again. He could feel the sun on his skin, the wind in his hair. He could hear the cries of the fallen around him. And the groans from the recently raised undead. “No! He’s dead. This isn’t real!” Caeden cried, becoming lost in the memories.

“Anar'alah belo….We need to keep moving!” He heard Anduin’s voice call through the din. A beacon in the madness. He focused on the King’s voice, bringing him back from the past into reality.

“I spotted an obelisk of ancient stone upon the high ridge.” Baine said as he and his small party pressed forward. Where the rest of the Death Knights that accompanied them went, Caeden did not know. He prayed to the light in this light forsaken place that they found the waystone. Celine would have his head if he lost her brother so soon after regaining him again.

Caeden fell to his knees the moment he was through. Baine, Thrall, Jaina and Anduin left behind. Only he, Shadowstalker and two other Knights of the Ebon Blade made it through the portal. The three Death Knights were instrumental in giving Caeden time to activate the waystone. They faced the Jailer’s forces at the waystone. Anduin and the others bought them the time for them to escape.

  
“Agents of the Maw are attacking Oribos! Defend the Arbiter!”

  
“The Maw here!”

  
“The Banished One!”

  
Voices spoke all around him. The denizens of this realm were in alarm. Caeden figured they didn’t get many, if at all, living mortals. Looking at the two…beings in front of him, Caeden stayed his hand. He rested it lightly on his sword, lowering his shield. He caught the eye of Benji and nodded. The death knight did the same. They were not under attack….just yet….

Caeden wasn’t sure what to call these things. On the surface, they resembled the Ethereals he had seen on the shattered land of Outland. But not quite.

  
A new voice added to the mix, “Hold. The Maw's power does linger upon them, but I sense ... No, that cannot be possible!” A captain of that guard, Caeden surmised, took charge. After a few moments of discussion, Caeden and the three Deathknights were following the two Overseers. They were taking him to someone called the Arbiter.

“Maw Walker….Well it’s better than abomination I guess.” The death knight fell in step with the Paladin. He had relaxed slightly, Caeden had noticed. He was still far from chatty but Caeden was granted sentences instead of one or two words. The fear of his only family turning away in horror had left him. Caeden could see the same sharp wit Benji shared with his sister, the same quickness to see things in the shadows.

  
“Hmm..better then mana sucker” Caeden agreed. Like the Death Knights, his welcome into Stormwind wasn’t very….well welcome. It had taken hard work to be accepted. He was sure his marriage to a member of a royal household member and his children had redeemed him in the eyes of some but he still heard whispers now and then.

They were following two overseers Kah-Sher and Kah-Delen, though which one was which Caeden couldn’t be sure. “Every attendant in Oribos is taught that the Maw is unbreachable. That the malevolent souls within were sealed away for all eternity.” Kah-Del…no Kah-Sher said.

  
“This mortal's escape might mean the prison is weakening. If true, the Banished One could ...” the other one trailed off.

The Banished One could return from being unbanished. Caeden had a pretty sure idea that the Banished One was the entity called the Jailer. The same entity that Sylvannas had allied with.

“For uncounted eons, the Shadowlands was in perfect order. Infinite afterlives, with Oribos, the Eternal City, as the shining heart. Every mortal soul came before the Arbiter. And she, ever wise, experienced all that had shaped a soul in life. With this knowledge, she consigned every soul to the afterlife it justly deserved. Until...” Kah-Delen paused.

Kah-Sher completed the thought, “ In that dread moment, our perfect order was shattered. And so it is that every soul, kind and cruel alike, is denied its rightful afterlife, and instead is damned to the inescapable torment of the Maw. Except you. Somehow you escaped the Maw.”

“The Banshee somehow opened the way. When she broke this” Shadowstalker held up a fragment of the Helm of Domination.

Their eyes widened. That got the attention of these….beings…..

Benji placed the fragment of the Helm on the table, over the map of the Shadowlands. The helm hummed with power. “This definitely is from here. The energy resonates the same” he said. Hearing the familiar sound of a Death Gate opening, he turned.

Bolvar Fordragon and a few hand chosen Ebon Blade walked through. Benji could see Koltera and Thassarian among them. He had helped rescue Koltera from the Undercity where he had been held for years for disobeying Sylvannas. Thassarian asked him personally for the help. Benji did not ever want to return to that city. To the ruins of his former life. But he understood the strength of bonds formed in life and how much stronger those bonds form in undeath.

  
“More outsiders! What have you done, mortal?” Kah-D…Sher said in alarm.

  
“Be at ease. I am Bolvar Fordragon. These knights and I are here to help.” Bolvar may be the former Lich King, but he was a Paladin of the Silver Hand in life and his dedication was ingrained into his very soul.

  
“The touch of the Maw is upon their souls as well.” Kah-Delen said, eying the Death Knights. He…she?...was speaking to the other about them, but not hiding it either. Niceties and tact was lost on them. “But if they found a way to break free of its influence, perhaps they can aid us. Come. Let us speak to the Voice.”

“What did you see in the Maw?” Benji asked Caeden in a low voice. They and Fordragon were following Tal-Inara to see the arbitor.

  
“Silvermoon. I saw it overrun again.” Caeden spoke in Thalassian, hoping Benji would understand.

  
“Lordaeron.” The Deathknight answered, in the same language. By the light his accent was horrible. It was obvious he only knew the rudimentary words and grammar.

“Tell me, how did these allies from your world become trapped in the Maw?” Tal-Inara spoke to the group.

Bolvar answered, “Sylvanas Windrunner sent her agents to abduct them. Dark, winged beings who caught them in chains and dragged them through the shattered sky.”

Caeden swore the faceless being frowned, “The winged Kyrian of Bastion ferry souls from the mortal realm into the Shadowlands, but not with chains. And they are noble, untainted by the Maw.” Tal-Inara said, thinking what was said over. “They Kyrian are followers of the light, of justice, in life. They are chosen by the Arbiter for this dedication.”

Overseer Kah-Delen added, “True, but it would seem this is the only clue our mortal friend has to follow. It falls to us to open the way for them.”

They followed to the gateway to Bastion. It was the only clue at the moment they had to follow.

Bolvar turned to Caeden, “Dawnblade. Light be with you.”

  
Caeden looked back to his brother in law and nodded. He knew Benji would understand. He took a deep breath, prayed to the light and stepped through the portal to Bastion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Preview of Chapter 5:
> 
> Caeden looked at the spider…thing….person next to him. An Aranakk was the term he was given. Barnoness Draka had sent him to meet with her champion in the former House of Eyes. Given that name, Caeden knew he was going to meet a rogue.


End file.
